‘Sister Midnight’ review: A horror-comedy triumph for the weirdos

Sister Midnight is a film as strange, hilarious, and unpredictable as its protagonist.

The directorial debut of London-based Indian writer/director Karan Kandhari, this wild ride of a film sends you nighttime wandering through the streets of Mumbai with a truly weird and wonderful heroine, a new bride in an arranged marriage who is as erratic and hungry as she is unfiltered.

Kandhari masterfully embraces the monstrous-feminine to blend genres and disrupt gender role expectations, set to a simmering score by Interpol’s Paul Banks in his debut as a composer, all while delivering a bloody great time at the cinema. (Seriously, watch this with a crowd.) Culminating in literal torches and pitchforks after a tremendously unhinged performance by lead Radhika Apte, Sister Midnight is truly one for the weirdos.

What is Sister Midnight about?

Set in Mumbai, Sister Midnight introduces us to small-town bride Uma (Apte) as she arrives in the city for an arranged marriage to Gopal (Ashok Pathak). They’re both very awkward people, considered social misfits by their neighbours; rude whispers about them being the “village idiots” are barely concealed by their peers. Freaked out by their suddenly shared living situation, they slowly form a thorny connection through circumstance, from which Kandhari builds some of the funniest moments in the film; when Gopal consummates their marriage with a swift handshake, Uma is not impressed.

Uncomfortable with her new role running a household, Uma is outspoken, disdainful, sweary, and gloriously weird — traits which make her at once a neighbourhood outcast, a mystery to her new husband, and a brilliant protagonist. Though she asks for help from her no-nonsense neighbour (Chhaya Kadam), Uma becomes bored and frustrated with her new life, seeking adventure (and employment) beyond domesticity, social oppression, and Gopal’s indifference to her dramatically awkward sexual advances. Following her instincts, avoiding the daytime din and becoming lucifugous, Uma begins what will become her signature somnolent wandering through Mumbai’s streets at night. Here, she finds company with a group of trans sex workers led by Aditi (Navya Sawant), who sense Uma’s alienation and offer her first sense of community in the city.

Soon, however, Uma’s unquenchable thirst for more becomes unnervingly literal, and despite her resistance to suddenly animalistic urges, it’s here the film really draws blood, leaning into light horror and even surrealism. Is Uma’s behaviour the work of a curse? Or has Uma had this power within her all along? Either way, something smells dead in here.

Sister Midnight celebrates the monstrous-feminine through deadpan comedy

A genre-blending descent into personal chaos, Sister Midnight embraces the absurdity of deadpan comedy with creature-feature horror. As Uma unleashes her suppressed desires in a more comfortable nocturnal realm, Kandhari channels Barbara Creed’s “monstrous-feminine”, as the protagonist becomes increasingly unhinged but noticeably healthier after giving in to her most authentic cravings. 

Following in the feminist horror footsteps of Jean Yarbrough’s Universal Monsters classic She-Wolf of London, Ana Lily Amirpour’s vampire Western A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night, and Julia Ducournau’s coming-of-age body horror Raw, Sister Midnight has its protagonist dabbling in taboo sustenance to explore her own female liberation. And here, such a path of discovery is also deeply funny. 

A blend of Napoleon Stratogiannakis’ rapid editing and Sverre Sørdal’s often symmetrical cinematography uplifts the deadpan magic of Apte’s performance in Sister Midnight. A scene involving a goat corpse, a trash heap, and an unaware passerby had me in stitches, as did a montage of Uma’s ridiculous repeated apologies, a valiant attempt to maintain a smidge of decorum amid her bloodthirsty pursuits. Upping the surrealist ante even further, Kandhari recruits stop-motion animation to hilarious effect.

But the real heart of Kandhari’s film is Apte herself, delivering one of the best comedic performances you’ll see this year.

Radhika Apte gives a phenomenally unsettling performance

As Uma, Apte plays a deeply unpredictable role. Uma’s evolution into a bloodthirsty creature is not one of seduction and mystique, as such journeys are often shown on-screen. Instead, it’s a frankly hilarious path of survival, practicality, and personal curiosity. 

At every turn, Uma sits or stands centre-frame in silence, considering, turning things over in her head, before suddenly springing into action — whether it’s deciding to shoplift a forest of pot plants or assessing an unsuspecting goat wandering in the streets. Each moment sees Apte deliver the very same unblinking stare and primal focus, then uninterruptible determination as she hits boiling point.

By the time you’ve followed Uma down the path of no return, Sister Midnight becomes the type of film you won’t want to leave. It’s a film made for the weirdos, the misunderstood, the suppressed characters who attempt to find ways to explore their desires without having a mob at their door.

Sister Midnight is now showing in UK cinemas, with U.S. release set for May 2025.